


This Is My Limit

by RieCo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RieCo/pseuds/RieCo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wants to go to Stanford. John wants him to keep hunting. Dean doesn't want to lose his brother. The night when everything changed...</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is My Limit

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted on Tumblr for Sashi (yourdarlinglittlesammy). But, she liked it and the notes started to accumulate. So, I figured what the hell and decided to put it up on the chopping block for the world of FanFiction.
> 
> Enjoy. XO-RieCo

The constant yelling over the years nearly had him deaf. He blinked hard and clenched his fists as his dad stepped up to him. Sam ground his teeth together, biting back words that would only add fuel to the long burning fire in his father’s soul.

“Think you can just  _leave_? Think this was the life I wanted for you?! Do you think this is what your mom wanted for you, Sammy?” John kept spitting the words at him, thinking they’d pierce the thick skin Sam had worn since the first argument.

“If you do not get the hell out of my face, old man, I swear to God, I will lay you out flat!” His jaw hurt, his eyes stung, and he was just completely worn out. With each moment that passed, all that Sam wanted was to be done… Gone. As far from here as he could be. 

John grabbed his collar, pulling him down closer to his face. “I fucking dare you…”

Dean grabbed his dad, tearing him away from Sam. “Dad, stop. Just stop!” He stood between the two, placing his palm on Sammy’s chest. Dean begged Sam to walk away with his eyes; those piercing green orbs danced across his younger brother’s face, pleading.

Sam tore away from Dean. “I’m done, dad. I’m going to Stanford.” He shrugged at his big brother before walking to the backseat of the impala. 

He breathed in its mileage, its memories, its secrets, before grabbing the old Marine duffel bag and slamming the door shut. John was behind the wheel of the old pickup, bottle in hand, as Sam walked back over to Dean.

“Don’t go, Sammy. Please?” Each word closer to begging than the last. “I can’t… I can’t do this alone.”

Sam gave a half-hearted smile, pulling the worn out bag higher on his shoulder. “I have to, Dean. And you can do this… It’s what you were meant to do. You’re good at it.” 

“Fuck. I’m good at pool, drinkin’, and finding easy women. But, hunting evil shit… I need you, man.” Dean shrugged. “If this is really what you want, go for it. But, promise you’ll call. Don’t call dad and if I’m with him, you won’t even hear his voice. Please call, Sammy…”

Sam shook his head hard. He didn’t want to call, didn’t want to remember that his big brother was off, fighting whatever monster of the week. He didn’t want to have the nightmares from when he was little… When Dean would go off for a small hunt and not check in. Leaving Sam to wonder if he was alive or dead in a ditch somewhere. He didn’t want to remember that this was the big brother that practically raised him: taught him to ride a bike, shoot a gun, and flirt with girls.

And most of all, Sam didn’t want to remember those eyes and freckles that he couldn’t kiss, couldn’t caress. He wanted ‘normal’… being passionately in love with your big brother is not normal.


End file.
